


be all we can be

by nigoi



Category: Inazuma Eleven: Ares no Tenbin
Genre: BTW, Canon Name, F/F, F/M, Gen, Inamori Yuriko Is A Matsukaze, Inamori Yuriko Is Asuto's Mother, Matsukaze Tenma is Inamori Asuto's Cousin, May be continued, Minor Character Death, Pre-Canon, Terminal Illnesses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-23 08:10:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16615181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nigoi/pseuds/nigoi
Summary: A long time ago, Inamori Yuriko was more than a dying mother.





	be all we can be

**Author's Note:**

> my project for nano! 
> 
> the title is based on this quote: "live life to its fullest, love wastefully, and be all we can be".

 Even though her moms were firmly opposed to the idea, Yuriko moved to Tokyo.

And now, seeing the flashing lights of the city at night, the busy crowd continue with their lives as if a sickly girl isn’t walking next to them, the buildings that go up and up and up until they touch the sky, she thinks _I love this city._ She thinks _this is it. This is my new life._

She thinks _best. Decision. Ever._

There’s a fatty dinner waiting for her at her new home, and a university to go to tomorrow. Yuriko whistles a tune that Mom used to hum when she was little, and struts until she is face to face with the Kogarashi Manor.

She knocks politely, and waits, still whistling.

A short chubby woman, maybe in her thirties, opens the door. She has pale blond hair tied back in a ponytail, and little black eyes. Her wide smile seems real, but there are bags under her eyes that speak of a stressed life.

“Hi,” Yuriko says, and bows, like her moms taught her. “I’m Matsukaze Yuriko, your new tenant. Please, take care of me.”

The woman laughs, amused. “Don’t bow, don’t bow. I’m too young for taking care of girls!” Yuriko stops bowing, and grins sheepishly. Is this not the manor’s owner? Whoops. “My father is the owner. Come, come, I’ll present you.”

Yuriko mentally shrugs, and follows her. This doesn’t look like the typical Tokyo Kidnapping™ that Mommy has told her so many times about. And if it is… She eyes the short legs of the woman. _Well, she can run for it._

“Sorry, what was your name?” Yuriko asks demurely when she notices she keeps calling the woman woman. “I didn’t quite catch it.”

“That’s because I didn’t tell you, you silly girl!” The woman opens the door to what is probably her father’s room without knocking. Inside, there’s an old man with afro hair sleeping only in his underpants—he’s drooling, and in a not-very-pretty pose, and it’s a little bit gross. The woman sighs. “I’m Kazeaki Yone. Sorry for the view.”

Yuriko maintains her polite smile on her face, even as Kazeaki kicks her father into a more dignified state. Namely, awake.

“...Can I call you Kayo?”

“Dad, I told you someone would be coming--- Uh? Yeah, sure.”

The man sits at the fourth kick from his daughter. He gives Yuriko a wide, slightly mischievous, smile. One tooth is missing and there’s dry drool around his mouth, but it’s charming anyway.

Yuriko presents herself again, repeating the same steps as before. The man says he’s Kazeaki Tanaka, and that he’s not always that way, he promises. “You have just caught me in a bad time, if you know what I mean,” he adds, absentmindedly finger-combing his beard.

There are sake bottles all around him, and Yuriko nods, because yes, yes she does know what he means.

Kayo sighs deeply, rubbing the sides of her nose, but still grants her a tired smile. Yuriko grins widely back, and it quickly becomes a yawn. “I’ll go to bed now, if that’s not a problem.”

“Oh, no, not at all. Room 16, third door left.” Kayo eyes her hair a little. “Nice hairpin, by the way.”

She knows. It’s a heart-shaped, pink, and very cheesy. It’s also a family heirloom. Yuriko touches it, “thanks.” She then proceeds to walk to her room and fall asleep the moment she is laying in the bed, not even bothering to change into her pajamas.

\---

The next day, Yuriko goes to her new university.

She forgot to set up an alarm clock, so she didn’t have time to change her wrinkled clothes. She just put on a long-tailed coat—it looks awful with her clothes, and it’s not even suitable for the season, but beggars can’t be choosers.

Still, it’s her first day! Yuriko doesn’t stop to admire the views, although she really, really wants to. She just takes a deep breath and settles for the smell of leaves and smoke.

The university itself isn’t as big as she imagined: it’s bigger! Around her, students walk and eventually sit on a random desk, either speaking with their friends or with their head buried on their phones or books. There’s a sleepy air, and it’s—

“Isn’t it wonderful?” she breathes, startling the boy next to her.

“What? Oh, ah, yeah. Wonderful,” he grumbles under his breath. “Studying at six in the morning. Truly, every man’s dream.”

She nods sagely. “And every woman’s.”

He doesn’t say anything else, and Yuriko doesn’t expect him to. He doesn’t look in the mood for a chit-chat, sadly. She hopes he’ll get better, or she’ll have to switch seats to sit with someone less grumpy.

The teacher enters the classroom, and all conversations die off.

It’s a boyish woman, who could say she’s sixteen and Yuriko would believe it. Is she one of those always young types? Yuriko wants to know her secret.

She says she’s Tsukimi Hideho, but that they must call her Tsukimi-sensei. She looks rather strict and serious, and Yuriko maintains that first impression during the lecture, but then she sends them off with a wink and a flirtatious gesture, and it fades.

The lecture itself is mildly interesting. It’s just an introduction to journalism, so she hopes it’ll improve, and that they’ll be doing projects soon.

However, her deskmate doesn’t seem to think the same—he fell asleep midway, and Yuriko had to kick him awake four times, much to his disgruntlement.

The rest of the lectures aren’t remarkable in any way. Not disturbingly bad, not impressively good. (A little boring, even if she doesn’t want to admit it.)

They have already two pair projects due in two months, though! It’s slavery! Yuriko chose to do them with her grumpy new friend, and she prays—prays!—he’s any good at studying.

Because she isn’t, hehe.

Yuriko walks home slowly, this time allowing herself a moment to enjoy life. It’s dusk, and the way the light hits the trees is delightful. She snaps a photo with her portable camera. Well, more like a dozen photos, but, really, who can blame her for having good taste? Nobody, that is.

She stops by a cafe and buys two cups, take-out, please. Then, when she comes home, she gives one to Kayo.

“What’s it for?” she asks, already gulping coffee.

Yuriko raises her cup, her face the most solemn it has ever been. “To having a non-grumpy friend.”

Kayo raises her already empty cup and chortles an enthusiastic “cheers!”, even though she doesn’t have the context. Yukiko grins.

\---

Tokyo becomes a routine quickly after that: wake up, scramble to university, barely listen in her classes,  try some a new thing on the way home, go home, and spend the night doing silly things with Kayo. Sometimes, Kayo is not in the mood for silly things, but it’s okay, Yuriko understands.

One day, that routine takes a little detour when her deskmate slams his backpack on her desk.

“Pardon?” she asks, blinking. What has she done now…?

He rests his head on his hands, morosely. “The projects…” he mutters, and it sounds like he’s choking.

...Is he going to cry? Should she try to comfort him? She doesn’t have any experience with that, but she’ll have to try. Yuriko raises a hand, dubiously.

“Uh—”

“The projects! The ones that are due next week and are worth a quarter of the grade! Those ones!”

“—are you okay?”

“No! No, I’m not! I’m going to fail, and I won’t find a job, and I will die under a bridge, totally alone!” Suddenly, his head shots out of his hands; destiny: a place uncomfortably close to her face. Yuriko has to go cross-eyed to see his manic expression. “ _Please_ , tell me you have done something!”

“...I’ve tried.”

And, honestly, she has. He might not think it’s passable, given the way he silently screams when he sees it, but hey, she likes it. And really, who does he think he is? At least, Yuriko has done something. He can’t blame her if he hasn’t done anything, she thinks, and tells him so, Politely, of course.

He glares, and then lowers his head like a chastised child. “I’m sorry. I didn’t have the time.”

“Oh? Why, pray tell?” This is so obviously an excuse it physically pains her. Really, if she cared more about getting good grades, she would switch partners. She is contemplating doing it anyway if he keeps going like this.

He looks at her like he doesn’t know whether to lie or not. “...I was training.”

“Ohoho? What for?”

“I’m trying to get selected in the Tokyo football team…” he mumbles, almost unintelligibly. Thankfully, Yuriko has good ears.

“Really? How cool! I’ve always liked football, but I’m not any good at it, hehe.” Health problems aside, Yuriko doesn’t have a great eye-to-foot coordination, to say the least. “But, even though that’s admirable and all, I won’t do all of the work.” She shrugs. “Well, maybe I’ll do it, but not credited to you.”

“Yeah, sorry again.” He looks at the still-lit computer screen showing her project from the corner of his eyes. “...When are you free?”

“Are you asking me on a date?” she teases, wiggling her eyebrows. Even so, he still blushes a bit. How cute. “I know my charms are irresistible, but, to be so direct…” She covers her mouth. “Oh, my!”

“No! It’s—just to redo the assignment.”

“Hey, don’t be so hasty. I’m very fine material, and my project is, too.”

The look he gives her implies that no, no it isn’t. Or maybe, no, she isn’t, who knows if he has bad taste. She pouts.

\---

The library is exactly like the ones from TV.

There are mountains and mountains of books, some dusty, some not, organised in an order no mere mortal can decipher. The desks are clean, but most have doodles of penises or names. One says _Yone <3 Haruka_, and Yuriko grins at the new teasing material.

She takes a seat near the door, opens a thick book about the history of football in Japan, and waits. She is halfway through it when her deskmate appears, all red and sweaty and covered in dirt.

The librarian looks at him disapprovingly, and edges closer to their desk, probably checking that they don't destroy their books or something typical from librarians like that.

He all but sprawls on the chair, and gasps, “sorry I'm late.”

Yuriko sighs gracefully and closes the book, remembering the page number. “If you were going to come at 5:30, why did you made me be here at 4:45?”

He flushes, even more than he was before. “Sorry,” he mutters.

Yuriko smiles politely, and lets the awkward silence hang on for thirty seconds. “Well, let's start with the project!”

“Right, right.”

They spend like two hours doing nothing but discuss what it's going to be about. Yuriko wants to do it about the city at night, but he argues that the urban flora and fauna is way more interesting. It's so boring and frustrating even the librarian stops eavesdropping.

Yuriko hits her head against the desk. “What about the nightly flora and fauna?” she suggests, exhausted. “That way we're both happy.”

“Okay,” he agrees, loudly exhaling air from his nose.

Her head hurts, and she doesn’t want to continue doing the project today. He answers that he can’t meet tomorrow, and is the next day after the day after tomorrow okay? Yukiko nods, takes her football book, and goes away.

Outside, it’s surprisingly dark. Have they spent so much time there? Wow.

She walks home more slowly than usual, if that’s even possible, pausing to admire the roaming pigeons and shy flowers growing in the corners of buildings. Yuriko smiles. She’s never stopped to appreciate it before, because in her island nature was way more impressive, but the timid way nature interacts with the city is charming.

She takes a photo and whistles a tune and walk-dances and laughs and ignores everyone who is throwing weird looks her way. Even as it starts to rain, and she ends up soaked, she doesn’t increase her step.

\---

Yuriko falls ill.

She knew she shouldn’t have stayed so long in the rain, but, well, her mothers weren't there to chastise her, and it was a long time since she last did it, and her hair looks way better when it’s wet and she wanted to impress Kayo with her astonishing beauty.

“You silly girl,” Kayo says, clicking her tongue. She has been the one to take care of her all two days, and Yuriko is very grateful. “You silly, silly girl. You know your health is delicate, and yet you stay in the rain?”

She pouts. “My health is _not_ delicate. I’m as robust as a truck driver. It’s not my fault this rain was defective.”

Her head hurrrrrrts. She can’t think straight, and she’s pretty sure her speech is a bit slurred. It hasn’t been this bad since… Hm.

She doesn’t remember.

Still, she can’t miss the date, wink wink nudge nudge, with her deskmate. It would be bad manners, and she won’t be able to lord his absences over him if she does. That would be  _hypocritical_.

Yuriko waits until Kayo is preoccupied with her father, and sneaks out silently, like a ninja, hehe. To the library!

Halfway there, she realises she forgot to put on her shoes. Whoops. It’s too late to go back for them—Kayo must be fretting, even if she left a note, and if she comes back, she won’t let her out of her sight for literal years.

After what seems a second, she arrives to the library. He is already there, looking around worriedly, so she must be like an hour late.

“Hiiiii,” she says, stumbling into her chair. She opens her bag, and in doing so, all her books fall. “Um…”

He is staring at her. If she were in her right mind, she’s sure she could _see_ what he’s thinking, but she’s not, so he just looks like a fish.

“...Are—are you okay?”

She beams at him from under the desk. “Peachy!”

They start the project, and it goes great. They have reached an agreement, and Yuriko has understood the wonder of flowers next to bricks. Yuriko could wax poetry about the satisfaction of finally being understood, after lots of time and effort—

“Okay, this is horrible. Stop.”

“Huh?”

He drags his hand through his face. “If you are ill, why did you come here?” he says, despairingly. “You’re not making sense, you’re half-asleep, and you look like you’re dying!”

“Shhhhh!” goes the librarian.

Yuriko looks to the side. “You were the one who was so worried about this thing,” she mutters petulantly.

“Ugh, don’t be stupid!” He flicks her forehead, and she covers it, indigned. The librarian shushes them again. He lowers his voice. “We can wait to do it until you’re better.”

“But what if I’m never better?”

“Then we never do it!”

“You can’t spend your life doing nothing just because of a little illness!”

His chest puffs, and he opens his mouth—

“Silence!” It takes a few seconds for Yuriko to discern that it was the librarian’s voice. Their face is impassive as they point to the door. “Out. Now.”

Yuriko gathers her things slowly, and walks with her chin proudly high. When she passes next to the librarian and sees the truly impressive glare they are giving her, she lowers it until it’s touching her chest. “Sorry,” she mutters, ashamed.

She doesn’t intend to stop walking until she’s home, not even when he calls her name, or even when her head hurts or her eyes burn. Keyword: intend.

He grabs her arm, and doesn’t let go even when she tries to shake him off. Yuriko whirls around, ready to give him a piece of her mind, but his expression leaves her mouth dry.

“I—” he starts, gulps, and starts again. “I'm sorry. I shouldn’t tell you what to do...” He extends his hand, and smiles a little weakly. “How about we start again?”

She takes his hand after a moment of hesitation. “Okay,” she breathes. “Okay. Hi! My name is Matsukaze Yuriko! Who are you?”

“I’m—”

\---

They finish the project the day before it’s due.

“Phew,” he says, mockingly wiping his forehead. “That was close!”

Yuriko closes the book, and the noise it makes is… satisfying. “Yeah, yeah.” She glances at him from the corner of her eyes. “Hm. Do you want to go for coffee?”

“Huh?”

“Cof. Fee.” Yuriko exhales through her nose.

He puts his hands on the edge of the desk, and pushes himself so far he falls off his chair. From the floor, he asks quietly, “...is it a date?”

“It is whatever you want it to be.”

“Oh, um.” He grins widely, and doesn’t add anything else. “Okay.”

But he doesn’t specify if it’s a date or not, so Yuriko goes to the cafe enveloped by a sense of mystery.

She orders a normal coffee, and he orders just water. The waiter doesn’t even hesitate at jotting down the order, but well, “why come to a cafe if you’re not going to drink coffee?” is a very pressing question Yuriko has.

“Diet,” he answers, sipping his very healthy water.

“Oh? You made any progress with football?”

Yuriko hasn’t realised how closed off his face was until it lights up with the power of a thousand suns. “Yeah! I got chosen!” He then proceeds to recount how he got chosen. “I’m still just a substitute, but that’ll change soon, I swear!”

He punches the air, and she raises her fist too, although more weakly. “Yeah, I’ll cheer you on!” She gulps down her liquid of ambrosia, also known as coffee, and wipes her mouth exhuberantly. “When is your first match?” He slowly looks to the side, smiling nervously. Her mood sours. “What is it?” she asks, sending politeness to hell.

“About that… It’s tomorrow.” She throws her empty cup at him. Sadly, he dodges. “Hey!”

“The presentation is tomorrow!”

He sips his water, not looking at her. “I know.” If Yuriko had another cup, she would throw it at him. He raises his hands in a placating manner. “Don’t make that scary face! I’m sure Tsukimi-sensei will postpone the date!”

Yuriko glares. “She won’t. She told us the first day she wouldn’t tolerate absences.”

“Oh… Eh.” He makes a face as if he’s swallowed up a lemon. “Sorry, then.”

She keeps her glare for a few seconds before slumping resignedly on her chair. “It doesn’t matter.” She sighs, and covers her eyes like a fairytale princess. “I’ll get by, and you’ll get a good ol’ zero. No problem.”

“A—a zero?” he asks, his face pale. She opens one eye. _Bingo._

She nods sagely. “A zero. What did you expect? You won’t present, and warming benches at a football match isn’t exactly a pressing excuse.”

“I won’t be warming benches!” he squawks, indignant, At Yuriko’s understanding smile, though, he deflates like a balloon. “...Alright. I’ll go.”

He sounds defeated, and Yuriko feels a little bad, but she quickly waves the feeling away. It’s his fault for trying to evade responsibilities. Why go to university if you’re not going to attend half of the classes?

She smiles, although it’s a little faker than usual. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then!”

“Yeah...”

\---

He doesn’t come.

Yuriko has to present their project alone, and, while she had memorised her part and exposes it per-fect-ly, his part goes oh so not good.

After stumbling with her words for the ninth time, Tsukimi-sensei kindly stops her and sends her to her partnerless desk. Everybody is looking at her from the corner of their eyes, and they seem understanding, but Yuriko is not feeling that way at the moment.

Oh, she’s going to kill him. She’ll tear off his tongue and make him swallow it, not without first drilling his eyes with the thinnest acupuncture needles she can find—

Breathe, Yuriko. Breathe.

Well, she is a teeny tiny little bit guilty, too. Football is his dream, his passion, and expecting him to give it up was selfish. On the other hand, not coming was selfish for his part… Ugh, she’s conflicted.

The classes pass in a whirl while she’s debating if she should commit her first murder, and by the time she goes home, she still doesn’t know what to do.

“What do you look so gloomy for, girl?”

Yuriko looks up from the book she was quote-unquote reading. “Oh, Kazeaki-san, didn’t see you there.”

The man smiles, and since when has he been missing a tooth? Should she ask? She decides not to do it—some things are better not known, after all.

Kazeaki sits next to her, at a non-creepy distance, and Yuriko closes her book. She has learnt that when he wants to be listened to, by God he will be listened to. “Did you want something?” she asks, smiling as politely as always.

He waves his hand. “Eh, just a little chit-chat.”

“What about?”

He shakes his head, apparently… exasperated?

“You, girl, don’t know how to maintain conversations. ‘What about’ is the main awkward mood creator.”

She… really doesn’t know how to respond to that. “Sorry?”

“Nevermind.” He sighs, as if he were performing a herculean task. “You looked moody. What for?”

“Um...”

“Boy problems?” He wiggles his eyebrows. Before she can answer, he says, “Please, tell me they are. I haven’t been able to help Yone with boy problems because she’s not into boys. I’ve been preparing all my life to help young girls with boy problems. Please.”

“Technically?” she says, not being one to disappoint. “I mean, it’s a problem with a boy.”

Kazeane makes a silent ‘yeah!’ gesture with his fist, and then straightens himself up when he remembers she’s there. He coughs. “Sorry, sorry. I got carried away. Well then, what’s the matter with that _boy_?” He giggles mischievously. His voluptuous hair wobbles.

Yuriko explains ‘the matter with the boy’, maaaaaaybe—or maybe not—spicing up some things, as to make them more interesting for him.

“You’re both in the right,” he affirms, totally serious, when she finishes. “Or in the wrong, if you want to be a pessimist.”

She sighs mournfully. “That doesn’t solve anything.”

“It doesn’t have to,” he says, fiddling with his long beautiful beard. “Just let it go, forgive him and apologise. Not very difficult, is it?”

Yuriko shakes her head in agreement and opens her book again. It’s the history of Japanese football—she has picked it up again to speak with him as a connoisseur of the sport, not as some amateur.

She finishes it that night.

\---

He doesn’t come the next day either. Nor the next week. Nor the next month.

Holidays come and go, and Yuriko has begun to forget about him. She has thrown herself in her studies—as much as she can at least, which is not much, but it’s enough—to compensate for the scraped passing grade she got in that fateful presentation.

Frankly, she just spends her time with Kayo. Sometimes even with Haruka. Never both together, as they get really, really, really sappy—and even though it’s cute, it also feels a little like third wheeling.

The year passes by calmly.

Next year, though. Next year is a riot. Well, riot is not the correct word—more like disaster.

It starts off with a party. It's quiet, just Kayo, and her father—as present as he can be without being able to speak—and her, and they just watch TV and talk about the future.

Ironically, that's the moment when Kazeane Tanaka collapses.

Kayo sores her throat screaming, but Yuriko, having done the drill lots of times—although normally from the point of view of the one on the floor—calls an ambulance.

The familiar roar of the approaching sirens is comforting. Kayo doesn't seem to think so, if the way she's gripping her arm like a lifeline is any indication.

Paramedics come and go. They offer to drive them to the hospital too, but Yuriko refuses, pointing with her head at Kayo. The paramedic nods knowingly, and enters the ambulance.

“Kayo,” Yuriko whispers, grabbing her shoulders. Kayo doesn't seem to have heard her. “Kayo. Calm down.”

She stammers something unintelligible. Yuriko can get the gist of the message, though, and nods. Kayo starts to sob in her arms, and she doesn't know if it's because of her father or because nodding was not the right answer.

“It’s—I’m too young to be an orphan…” she murmurs once she has recovered a bit. Yuriko wonders if this is a heartwarming moment of Backstory Reveal™. They had skirted around the topic even when it had become obvious Kazeane was ill, so she doesn’t know why Kayo wants to speak about it know.

Then again, she never knows anything, does she?

Kayo tells her about the day she learnt her father was terminally ill, and about the day he forgot her age. She tells her about how him dying is her greatest fear, and how she knew this day would come, but hadn’t assimilated it. Yuriko soothingly rubs her back, as she’s seen her moms do when this happened to her.

(Should she call them? They would be way better at dealing with this than her.)

“Ready to go to the hospital?” she asks when Kayo finishes.

Kayo gulps. “Ready.”

And there they go. Kayo has a bicycle, but Yuriko doesn’t trust her to ride it with trembling hands, so she rides it in her stead. She’s not very athletic and her lungs are not very good at breathing, so they take their sweet time arriving.

Kayo bolts to the hospital, but Yuriko stands there, supporting herself with the bicycle, panting for her dear life.

After gathering herself, Yuriko enters, her head held high, as if she hadn’t just walked away from death and is willingly going towards it again.

The hospital itself is… frigid.

Her island’s homey little cottage-slash-hospital at the top of a hill, while a lot smaller than this one, is full of people doing their best to smile even in trying circumstances. Everybody knows each other, and when they see you in there, someone offers you a hug and a reassurance.

This, however, is filled to the brim with people, but they’re looking at the floor, the ceiling or a book. No one is making eye contact, not even people who are clearly together.

...Yuriko wonders if this is what people mean when they speak about the coldness of big cities.

Kayo is slumped over a chair, and she quietly sits next to her. Kayo doesn’t even look at her. She is muttering futile prayers under her breath and her eyes are red-rimmed, but, hey, at least she’s not crying.

Kazeaki lays in a bed, disturbingly quiet. His face is ghostly pale and his hands are limp at his sides. He doesn’t seem asleep, as is the most often used metaphor—no, he looks dead. She has had to check the heart monitor to know that he’s not.

Yuriko touches her hair self-consciously, and her hand pauses when it stumbles across her hairpin. Didn’t Kayo like this? She takes it off and stares at it, contemplating. Finally, she just sighs and hands it over to Kayo.

“Huh?” Kayo sounds bewildered.

“For you,” she says, putting the hairpin in Kayo’s uncombed hair. She grins. “You look beautiful.” And she’s not lying, honestly. The way her skin is flushed and her eyes shine with unshed tears… If Kayo didn’t have a girlfriend, she would have kissed her.

Kayo sniffles. “Thanks.”

They stay there for an undetermined amount of time. Eventually, Kazeaki’s heart rate slips to zero. Kayo buries her head into her hands, but Yuriko can’t stop staring his lifeless face.

( _Is this how I—?_ )

\---

Life quietly resumes after that.

Kayo becomes the new owner of the Kogarashi Manor, and Yuriko has taken it upon herself to help her as much as she can, which means flunking her exams. More than she was before, she means.

Kayo has forsaken her old hairstyle, and now proudly wears an afro, which, combined with Yuriko’s ex-hairpin, makes her look a bit like an old woman. An astonishing gorgeous one, but still.

Yuriko doesn’t ask about that change, and just compliments her new style with a wink. She understands.

The university coursework has loaded since the start of the year. If she thought having one project the first day was bad, imagine having _three_ due next week. And almost no time to do them.

In spite of Kayo’s insistent nagging not to, she has decided to keep helping her, which means she has to stay up late and take the first photos she finds on her way home.

She manages that way during three fleeting years.

One day, when there’s only four days remaining to hand over Tsukimi-sensei’s final assignment, Yuriko takes a different path home. It’s not the first time she does that, so she’s confident she won’t get lost—and, besides, there’s always good views of the retro parts of the city this way, and that’s always worth the risk.

It’s spring. Typically from Japan, cherry trees are blooming, and Yuriko takes her time to snap photos of petals as they fall, even though they are not related to the assignment.

No. As her final project, she has chosen to do a reportage about urban football in Tokyo, both because she is now an expert about the topic and as a tribute to her first partner.

There’s a football pitch where thirteen-year-olds always play. She has asked their parents for permission to take photos, and they agreed, so she has lots of them. Today, she goes there to add the final touch to the project: photos in the setting sun—the end of the day to end a project. Poetic.

Yuriko sits in the benches at the sides of the pitch. The kids are all gathered around some older person who is showing off. That happens occasionally: someone sees a bunch of children doing something and thinks, ‘why don’t I teach them how to do that thing better?’.

This one is good, though—as in could-be-a-professional good. Yuriko smiles and takes a photo, but stops dead in her tracks when she sees it.

Is that…? Surely that can’t be possible.

She squints, but between the dimming light and the swarm of kids, she can’t distinguish any defining features. That ends up not being necessary, however, when the figure spots her and waves. She waves back, bemused.

They start running towards her, and it soon becomes clear they’re a he. In fact, Yuriko knows precisely which he.

“Hi!” she says, smiling politely. “If it isn’t my favourite deskmate! How come you’re here?”

He grins from ear to ear. “Well, I walked by and saw some kids playing football and thought I’d like to show off a bit.” He wiggles his eyebrows flirtatiously. Aw, how cute, he thinks being honest will woo her. “And you? What about your life?”

“Eh, you know, here and there,” she answers, waving her hand dismissively. “But the more pressing question is…” She leans towards him, until their faces are uncomfortably close. “ _Why_ did you disappear years ago?”

He opens his mouth to respond, but behind him, a child clears her throat impatiently. His grin turns sheepish. “I'll tell you over a coffee, okay?”

Yuriko raises her eyebrows until they touch her hairline. “ _You_? Asking me on a _date_?” she asks in the most incredulous tone she can muster.

“...It is whatever you want it to be.”

“So a date.”

He blushes. “Yeah.” A kid starts tugging his hand, and he looks unreadably at her while letting himself be pulled. “Gotta go.”

“I'll wait for you here.” She pats the bench, and her smile is embarrassingly wide when he turns his back at her. _She has a date!_

\---

They go to the same cafe they went years ago.

Yuriko orders a cappuccino, and, surprisingly, he asks for a normal one and a sandwich.

“Weren't you on a diet?” she questions when he devours the sandwich like a starving man who hasn’t tasted food in weeks.

“Huh?” He swallows. “Ah, that. Pff, there’s nothing wrong with skipping it one day.”

She sips on her drink, thoughtfully. There's something different about him, but Yuriko can't quite put her finger on it. He's… tanner? More daring? No. Well, yes, but that's not it. She hates not having the words to describe something.

After making the mandatory small talk, Yuriko repeats the main question: “Why did you leave the university?”

He’s in the middle of ordering two more sandwiches, so the question catches him with the guard mildly down. “Uh, well, I’m not going to bore you with the details, but long story short, I went to the match, played, and our team won the match thanks to a lucky goal of mine.”

He pauses, and Yuriko makes an interested noise to show that she was listening. He continues, satisfied. “I decided to dedicate all my time to play football, since I wanted to be the star in more matches. So I left my parents’ house, and did just that. Sorry for abandoning you on the presentation’s day, by the way.”

“Apology accepted,” she says automatically, inwardly thinking of the other thing he said. His parents? It sounds like a very personal topic. Does she ask? ...Better not. It’s probably that they don’t support their son, or something like that. “And how did it work out? Are you still playing professionally?”

The waitress brings the two sandwiches, and he instantly starts munching one.

“Yeah!” He beams. “I’m the top goal scorer in my team!”

“Congrats.” She glances towards the window; people pass, animals pass, time passes. “Hey, when’s your next match?”

He looks up from his apparently enticing sandwich. “Mmmm… Next Friday, I think. Why?”

He probably suspects the reason, but it seems he’s still the kind of person who likes to have everything stated explicitly. “I’ll come to watch you.”

“Um…” He looks down, red dusting his cheeks, and doesn’t look up again for the rest of the date.

When midnight comes, they wave goodbye to each other, and Yuriko runs as fast as she can. Direction? Home.

It’s not the first time she comes late—it’s not her first date ever, after all—but today she has forgotten to call Kayo, and oh my God she must be so worried...

“I’m sorry, Kayoooo!” she screams the moment she slams the door open. “I just got caught up and I had a date and—”

The way she jokingly slaps her back sends another message. “Don’t worry, don’t worry!” Kayo says, chuckling.

“But—but...!” Yuriko’s eyes feel watery, and she sniffles.

Kayo squishes her cheeks with two fingers. “Tut, tut, tut. There’s only one important thing: did you have fun?”

And Yuriko thinks about how she must look—a young girl, red-faced, teary-eyed, panting, but with a permanent grin from ear to ear—and ducks her head down and mutters, “...yes.”

\---

Yuriko attends the match, and wow, he wasn’t kidding—he _really_ was good.

His playing is style is… fascinating. He plays like someone is chasing him with the intent to kill, but, instead of being afraid, he enjoys it. Lightning sprouts with every step he takes, and that feral grin…

Needless to say, Yuriko snaps lots of photos.

When the match ends, she approaches him as he exits the changing rooms.  His back is turned towards her, so she takes advantage of that fact to scare the wits out of him. He shrieks like a dying animal, and Yuriko bursts out laughing.

“Har, har, very funny,” he retorts, face red. She doesn’t know if it’s because of doing sport or of being embarrassed. Eh, probably both.

She desperately tries to muffle her giggles. “I know!” It proves to be an unsuccessful attempt, and Yuriko _roars_ with laughter.

When she calms down, three minutes later, she asks, breathlessly, “up for a second date?”

He nods, not saying a word, the tips of his ears red.

\---

That second date turns to another, and that one to one more, and soon they find each other as boyfriend and girlfriend.

She has graduated, and, instead of working in something related to her career, she decides to take a permanent job as Kobayashi Manor’s cook. It doesn’t bring much money, but that’s okay—he earns more than enough.

Yuriko has never wanted to marry, not really; she can barely glimpse herself settling down with him, having children, and spending the rest of their lives together.

That frightening thought makes itself apparent when she finds out she’s pregnant.

“I’m—Me? A father?” He sounds like the words are choking him. His eyes are teary, and Yuriko knows a scared, fleeting man when she sees one. Now that they’ve been more than one year together, at least she can do something about it.

“Don’t worry, dear,” she says soothingly, taking his hand—a gesture which she means both as a comfort and as a warning. “You’ll be a great dad.”

“Yeah.” He licks his lips. “Yeah. I hope so.”

Months pass like a flash. Kayo is ecstatic when she hears the news, and her moms—disturbingly old, white-haired and wrinkly—come visit when she’s eight months pregnant, predicting she would give birth before she’s due.

True to her collapsing body, they’re right.  

Her waters break while she’s at a candy shop, buying sweets to satisfy her cravings, and her brain short circuits. The shop assistant, true to the myth that people in her profession have seen it all, calmly calls the ambulance.

The lull of the trip to the hospital almost puts her to sleep, but then the contractions start.

It’s not the worst pain she’s ever been in, not even close, but it still _hurts_. She bites her lip to not scream, and it bleeds. She can’t concentrate in anything—doesn’t even notice she’s in a hospital bed until they anesthetize her.

The labour itself is quick. The doctor doesn’t hand her her baby, and instead hurriedly deposits him in an incubator. Yuriko is ready to scream until she remembers her son has been born three weeks before it was due.

She feels sleepy.

When she wakes up, he is with her, Kayo and her moms in the background. He notices she has woken up, and rattles about the medical complications her son is likely to face. Yuriko sighs and takes his hand, shutting him up instantly.

“Don’t worry about it, dear,” she assures him, smiling a little. “I was premature too, and I’m fine, am I not?”

He looks at her in the eye, and they both know she’s lying, but he doesn’t call her out for it. It’s okay, Yuriko understands.

\---

Three excruciatingly long months after that, they finally,  _finally_ , receive their baby back.

She has decided to call him Asuto, as in 'person of tomorrow', because for him, there will always be tomorrow. Her husband agrees, shrugging.

Although he clearly and openly loves his child, most of his time is spent playing football or sleeping. However, when he is with Asuto, he turns into a spoiling machine: he hugs, kisses, coos… Basically, Asuto has him wrapped around his not-so-chubby finger.

One day, he tells her he’s been offered a position in a foreign team. “It’s a _really_ good offer, so I’m… I’m gonna accept,” he says, somewhat apologetical. Then, he raises his chin and looks at her in the eyes. “Will you come with me?”

And in another life, Yuriko would, even though her health is getting worse—even though she’s dying. She would accept to see the world, to endlessly travel with her lover and watch how his dreams become real.

But she is hyper-aware of her son’s weight in her arms, and, deciding to be selfless for once in her entire life, Yuriko wordlessly shakes her head.

He sighs sadly, although he also looks a bit relieved, but maybe that’s her imagination.

\---

The farewell isn’t as sad as movies make you think.

He presses a long kiss to her mouth, but it doesn’t feel passionate—more like he does it because it’s expected of him. His old team catcalls behind him, and they both smile, a little daring, a little embarrassed.

After caressing Asuto affectionately, he looks like he’s about to have a heart-to-heart with her. He opens his mouth—

“Attention, passengers of the flight to Brazil, the plane is about to take off. _Atten_ _tion, pass_ _enger_ _s of th_ _e flight to…_ ”

—he closes it with a snap, and smiles sheepishly. “Goodbye, I’ll send you money,” he says shortly. He turns his back to her, and sets off towards the plane.

“See you…” She waves until the plane is nothing but a dot in the distance.

Asuto leans over so much he almost falls off her arms, but, thankfully, Yuriko stabilises him before a tragedy can happen. He gurgles happily, and she truly, honestly, smiles.

“Let’s go home, Asuto.”

\---

Yuriko takes a decision.

Since he left, she’s been progressively getting worse. She can’t handle both her job and taking care of Asuto—as much as her heart weighs when she thinks it, she can’t keep living in Tokyo anymore.

She calls her mom, and tells her she’s going to move to Inakuni Island again. Her mom tears up, and says that she’s glad to finally get to spend time with her and little Asuto and that Ai would have liked it too.

Yuriko always feels a bit guilty when she speaks with her. That’s why she doesn’t do it as often as she should.

She hangs up, and when she turns around, Kayo is there, frozen. Yuriko smiles winningly, “I guess you have heard the conversation.”

Kayo tightly grabs her by the shoulders. “Are you really going?”

“Yes,” she says, taking one of Kayo’s hands with her own.

“Will—will you be happy?”

Yuriko can’t look at her in the eyes. “...Yes.”

“Then that’s all I ask.”

Her face contorts in pain, though.

\---

Everyone she has met on Tokyo is at her farewell party—Haruka, Tsukimi-sensei, her university friends, Kayo… Half of the city, basically. It’s a bit tearier than his, mostly because of Kayo, who has already used five handkerchieves is as many minutes.

“Take care of yourself,” Haruka says warmly, handing her a small box. When Yuriko look quizzically at her, she winks and whispers, “it’s a gift. For giving your stupidly expensive hairpin to Yone.”

“Oh.” She brings the box near her heart, and smiles politely. “Thank you.”

“No problem.”

The boat makes the noise that means it’s going set sail, so Yuriko has to enter. She waves enthusiastically, grinning as widely as she can. “Goodbye, my friends! Goodbye!”

“Yurikoooooooo!”

It’s Kayo. She is waving her handkerchief effusively, tears running freely through her face. Yuriko smiles, a little melancholic, and as the distance between her and Tokyo grows, she thinks  _it’s for the best._ She thinks, _at least this way she won’t see another loved one decay._

Asuto feels heavy in her arms, and she doesn’t usually think she’s a good person (she’s selfish and manipulative and can’t get no for an answer), but, seeing all those dots grouped together in the beach, she thinks, _I must’ve done something good_.

Tokyo looks beautiful under the sunlight.


End file.
